The Rule of the Raven
by targaryenemperor
Summary: During Aerys I's reign, Brynden Rivers, known as the Bloodraven, was the true ruler of Westeros. This story will focus on him and his efforts to stabilize the situation in the Seven Kingdoms while trying to find a way to solve the problems in his own family. Rated M for language and, well, everything else (it's ASoIaF so...). I do not own the books, GRRM does. I await your reviews!
1. The Small Council Meeting

King's Landing, a month after the Great Spring Sickness ended. A new king stood on the Iron Throne and a new Hand of the King ruled beside him. Aerys I was not prepared to be King of the Andals. His brother, Baelor Breakspear was a great Hand and the ruler everyone wanted. However, he died by the hand of his brother, Maekar. The Sickness also took the lives of Baelor's sons, Valarr and Matarys, leaving Aerys as his father's heir. After Daeron II himself died, the bookish Aerys found himself king, with no idea about how to lead his people. Sure, he was a very intelligent and cultured individual but he had no training in effectively ruling a kingdom. This is why, as his first act as King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, he decided to name his uncle, Brynden Rivers, Hand of the King.

The relationship between Brynden and Aerys was unique. Aerys was Brynden's favorite nephew, as he was very intellectual and attracted to the arcane arts, like him. Likewise, Aerys enjoyed Brynden and the books he would show him, such as spell tomes from across the Narrow Sea or legends about the Others. However, with his new position as King, Aerys had less and less time for reading, as his position was extremely demanding.

In the Small Council room, a meeting was in place, to discuss the end of the Sickness and the restoration of order in the realm.

"With all due respect, Lord Hand, but I don't think that your decision to force the smallfolk to return is justified. The draught is as bad as it is; we don't need malcontents so close to our gates."

Lord Dormund Estermont, the Master of Laws, was a small, bald old man who usually sported a green robe. He was a good lawmaker but not very compassionate about people in general. Brynden Rivers retorted:

"And you prefer to starve, Lord Estermont? If the smallfolk don't work the land, you and all of us will die of hunger. Unless you have a vault full of wheat and barley we don't know about? I guess not, since you are thin as a straw."

The other Council members laughed, except Lord Estermont.

"There is no need for insults, Lord Hand. Everyone at this table agrees with the fact that the smallfolk will revolt. Many of them will become brigands. There will be robberies, murders, rapes!"

"Nobody will rape you, Lord Estermont. Who in his right mind wants to fuck an old fart whose only concern is his own hide?"

The jest of the Master of Ships, Lord Rickard Manderly, was too much for Estermont to bear.

"I will not be your subject of mockery! I am a Lord from an old House! The blood of the Storm Kings runs within my veins! Take back your words, Lord Manderly, or it will end with blood!"

The northern lord laughed:

"Fuck you, Estermont. You are a fool and a shit eating prick. You do not realize that we will starve! The power of the Iron Throne is shabby at best. We need to consolidate. We need to restart the commerce with the Free Cities now that the plague ended. We need to rebuild our agriculture. The fields will be worked by the smallfolk, unless you want to work them yourself, seeing as you are so afraid of peasants. We need to show the realm that the King is taking care of things!"

"He is right, Estermont. Shut up. We have other matters to attend to."

The Master of Coin, Lord Thaddeus Brax, was an imposing individual, very rich and very powerful. He was the cousin of the Lord of Casterly Rock, Tybolt Lannister, as his mother, Lady Cerissa, was Brax's aunt. Thaddeus Brax was not a man to be trifled with as he was handpicked by Brynden Rivers to serve in the Small Council.

"My lords, my decision is clear. The smallfolk will be forced to return to their lands. If in two months' time won't rain, I will summon builders from Braavos to build canals all across the Crownlands. The Blackwater Rush will source the water for those canals so I think we will manage to provide enough of it to the fields around King's Landing."

A daring plan that made even the skeptical Lord Estermont end his tirade, this idea was revolutionary for Westeros.

"We have another pressing matter on our hands. The King won't procreate. He doesn't want to touch his wife in order to give her his seed. We all know that a king needs heirs to have a stable reign. If Aerys will die without sons, Prince Maekar will become King…"

"A dreadful perspective for us, my lords."

Everybody turned their heads towards the speaker. A woman, tall and lean, with a beautiful necklace of sapphires and emeralds, matching her strangely colored eyes, one blue and one green rose from her chair and spoke again, with a silky voice.

"We certainly agree that Prince Maekar is not the kindest man in the realm and he can be quite… antagonistic towards the regime we try to create over here. All of us had spats with him in the past. As much as I care about my beloved nephew, I really don't think he will make a good king."

The woman was Shiera, the Mistress of Whispers. A woman known all across the world for her beauty, promiscuousness and intelligence, as she would be more than happy to fuck anyone anywhere and anytime in order to find out the man (or woman)'s secrets.

"Exactly! You see, my lords, my sister has a point. With my nephew Maekar as king, I don't think that any of us has a future in King's Landing. We need to solve the problem of the smallfolk, and we will do it but the problem of a prince from Aerys' seed is paramount. And I shall see that the king will do his duty. We don't need hatred from House Penrose."

After the Small Council meeting, Brynden entered his room in the Tower of the Hand. He undressed and entered a large bathtub filled with hot water. After a few minutes, Shiera joined her brother in the tub, savoring a glass of wine at the same time.

"That Estermont… Always trying to block me in those meetings."

"He hates me too… I guess it's because we are bastards? Or he may be jealous that I don't want to fuck him as I fuck you?"

Brynden smiled and touched Shiera's breasts. He then planted a kiss on her lips.

"Listen, about Aerys. How would you try to make him do his job as a husband? Will you take his cock and force-shove it inside Queen Aelinor's cunt? If you plan to do this, please, invite me too. It would make me so wet to see you work on our beloved nephew's prick while that wife of his probably will pray to her Seven!"

"Hmm… I heard that she prays every day at the Sept of Baelor for a son."

"She needs not to pray, but a cock. Her husband's cock. Nothing more, nothing less!"

"Yes, a cock Aerys doesn't want to give her."

Shiera put her head on Brynden's chest, while touching the Hand's privates. Bloodraven clearly liked every moment of it.

"I will talk to him. He respects me and listens to my advices, perhaps he would see it my way. But honestly, it will be very hard to coerce him into doing it."

"That Aerys… He does not understand that furthering his bloodline is what matters? Our bloodline? The Blackfyres are still out there. And if House Targaryen is to survive, our nephew's line must continue!"

"Speaking of lines… Shiera, for so many years I wanted you, not just to fuck you, but as my wife. We were both acknowledged by our wretched father, we can start a new cadet branch of the Targaryens together, a dynasty! Marry me, please, and we will be even stronger, we will protect House Targaryen even better! There are dark times ahead of us. We must be together if we are to survive them!"

Shiera laughed. She kissed Bloodraven and left the bathtub. Her wet, naked body was perfect. The evening's rays, which entered in the room, fall upon her, giving her the aspect of a goddess. Brynden was smitten.

"I don't wish to be bound by anyone, not even you, my love. I want to be free, to live my life as I see fit, and while it's lovely to be in your arms, they are also like a cage for me… a gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless."

Brynden's face darkened. His red eye glimmered with anger, but he knew that this was the only answer Shiera ever gave him since the first time he proposed to her. He decided to let her be, maybe next time, she will accept.

"You need to figure out a way to make Aerys consummate his marriage. I can help you, if you wish!"

"How?"

"Well, a fortnight ago I found out some old books. They belonged to my mother, Lady Serenei. I found some recipes over there, love potions and rituals that would make even the meekest of men fuck like a bull in heat. I planned to use some of them, to make fun of you, but you are smart, so you would have noticed it. I decided then to try them on old Estermont but now, I see there is no point to waste them on him."

"I don't know, Shiera. Using blood magic to make Aerys copulate… We don't know how the child could be affected, so no. We will use them as only a last resort, nothing more."

"Fine, do your thing. I am here, if you need me!"

Brynden left the tub too. He dressed with a black cloak and matching pants and, after putting on his boots, left his room.


	2. The Well Concocted Plan

"For the last time, Uncle, I said no. I don't have time for this, and you know it. If you want so badly to see my Queen bedded, bed her if you wish. You are a Targaryen too, after all!"

"How can you say that? Your line must be the one to continue with a child of your blood. Your king's blood must flow inside his veins. That would bring the stability the Seven Kingdoms need. Besides, the support from House Penrose was invaluable during the Rebellion. Lord Robyn will come to court in a few weeks, to visit his daughter. What better news for him than the existence of a prince, a future king and a grandson in her belly? Please, do this for the Kingdoms, for me!"

Aerys studied his uncle. He never saw the man people feared as the Bloodraven so meek, humbly begging.

"No, Uncle. I am not interested."

"Ugh… Listen, if you like men, tell me. I could arrange for you and a man of your choosing to meet with the queen and that man will help you with your… problem."

"Yes… I choose you, Uncle."

Bloodraven was stupefied, but it was the king's word.

"Fine, your Grace. If that is your wish, then…"

Brynden was interrupted by Aerys' laughter. He rarely laughed but this time, he was very amused.

"I was joking. I don't like men. I don't like anything involving, you know, sex."

Brynden was visibly annoyed, not because of the joke, but because of Aerys' attitude towards the idea of consuming his marriage.

"Fine, it seems that I must coerce you."

"Meaning?"

"Your aunt, Lady Shiera, found some old tomes of her mother Serenei, the sorceress from Lys. Imagine how many secrets are hidden inside those pages!"

"Mmm… And in return for them, you want me to bed my wife?"

"Exactly, your Grace! I think the trade is very just."

"You should have become a merchant then, Uncle. Haggling is a trait you clearly possess. But I must refuse you. Your intentions are good but I want to focus more at ruling than loving."

Brynden didn't know what the king meant, as he didn't do much ruling, staying inside his office all the day, reading and drawing. Defeated, Bloodraven agreed that there was no point in trying to persuade Aerys anymore. He then tried other method:

"Your Grace, maybe Queen Aelinor is not to your liking. Maybe you need another! I can explain to Lord Robyn Penrose that his daughter, while a good queen and a respectful wife, did not stir you as a wife should stir a husband and, while I expect immediate backlash, in time he will accept the situation for what it is."

"No! The queen is lovely and I care much for her. I will not spurn her!"

"Then, if you do not wish to spurn her and you do not wish to bed her, what do you want, your Grace?"

"Right now, I want to read about Yi Ti. Grand Maester Wylard had this beautiful map in his office and I decided I should learn more about them. So I took all the man's books about Yi Ti!"

"Of course, your Grace. Sorry for interrupting you."

"Do not worry, Uncle. You should visit me more often. I miss the days when we would discuss the books I used to read."

"Well, in those days, you weren't the King and I wasn't the Hand."

Aerys smiled. Brynden then left the King's chambers and returned to his tower. Shiera awaited him, naked, on the bed, while eating a peach.

"From the look on your face, you failed, Brynden."

"Yes… And you, you should savor that peach you are eating. Who knows when you will taste another, if we do not solve this situation with the smallfolk."

"Let us pray, like Queen Aelinor. Maybe the gods will answer us!"

Shiera started to laugh. Brynden smiled but it was a sad smile. He knew that the realm was in a heap of trouble. Bloodraven strived for peace and for stability, even though people hated him, considering him a bastard and a sorcerer… Well, he was both, but he considered himself to be a good sort of bastard-sorcerer.

"While you were in the Keep talking with Aerys, Wylard came here and handed me this letter for you"

The letter bore the sigil of House Stark, the direwolf.

"Great… Now the wolves too!"

"The Maester was pretty tense, I think it's something serious!"

"I think he was tense seeing you like this. Don't tell me you fucked him too?"

"No… At least, not today!"

"Good…"

Brynden hated the fact that Shiera bedded other people, but he knew he couldn't stop her. She lived for this, she enjoyed this and not a force in the world would stop her from doing it. This was another one of Bloodraven's dilemmas: Shiera fucked too much, Aerys didn't fuck at all.

"So, will you do me tonight or you took the sickness from Aerys?"

"I must read this letter first."

After a few minutes spent reading the letter, Brynden's face suddenly lightened up.

"It seems that fate smiles upon us. Lord Stark requests that his youngest daughter, Wylla, to be accepted as a lady-in-waiting for Queen Aelinor. If we accept, she is to arrive at court in a month time!"

"Well, well… I heard about Wylla Stark. She is the favorite daughter of Lord Beric and the singers praise her as the Fairest Maid in the North."

"Then… we could plant her in Aerys' life and maybe, just maybe…"

"Maybe he will ditch Aelinor and take Wylla as his wife."

"I have a plan. Tomorrow, I will call a Small Council meeting. We can kill two birds with one stone!"


	3. The Conspiracy of Storms

The Small Council gathering started and Brynden and Shiera's other colleagues were anxious to find out the reason the meeting was called.

"My lords, after careful thinking and a bit of luck, I think I found the solution to both our problems. As you know, the Warden of the North Beric Stark has four children: two sons, Benjen and Rickard and two daughters, Lyra and Wylla. He requested his daughter Wylla to be accepted as Queen Aelinor's lady-in-waiting here, in King's Landing."

Lord Estermont, always eager to contradict Bloodraven, replied:

"And how is that helping us? A girl of seventeen can't possibly be the solution to any problems we have!"

Lord Manderly smashed his fist on the table:

"Gods be good, are you a fucking dimwit? We can insert Lady Wylla in the king's bed if she will arrive in the capital. She will be something of a novelty and we all know that our king deeply enjoys novelties. Besides, I personally know the girl and I must say, she is the most beautiful girl in all the North. My eldest son, Gareth, is so madly in love to her that he planned to steal her from Winterfell and bring her to White Harbor. I talked him out of it. Also, his younger brother, Robett, tried to buy her from Lord Stark. Eighty thousand gold dragons he wanted to pay to Lord Beric, but he almost killed my son for proposing to _buy Wylla like a whore_. I managed to convince Lord Stark that it was a youngster's foolishness so he let it slide."

Lord Brax raised his hand, his custom whenever he wanted to speak. The other lords turned their heads towards him.

"If you want to use a lady as bait for our king, I believe there are more suitable ladies in the south than any direwolf pup. I don't trust the Starks."

Bloodraven frowned:

"Lord Brax, it is not necessary for you to trust House Stark, or even interact with the girl. As for the region she comes from… It is necessary to be from the North."

"Why?"

"Because the girl's arrival to King's Landing is part of my plan to bring the smallfolk back to the Crownlands. A few thousand of them went north when the drought began. I will write a letter to Lord Stark and say to him that we accept it in exchange of him sending the smallfolk refugees back here."

Estermont laughed:

"Yes and Beric Stark will accept this because of what? He is a Stark, honorable fools they are. He will never accept this."

"Oh, but he will accept it. Lord Beric's maester is… friendly to our cause."

"Who is he?"

"As you know, I lived for a few years with my mother's House in the Riverlands, at the Raventree Hall. My grandfather, Lord Ryger Blackwood, had four children. Quentyn, who died at that tourney here in 206, Alyn, my mother Melissa and their youngest brother, Lyman."

Lord Manderly smirked:

"Lyman is Lord Stark's maester. He saved the life of his son Benjen when he fell from a horse three years ago. Since then, Lyman became his closest friend and advisor."

"Exactly, and he is my uncle. I will write two letters: one for Lord Stark, one for Maester Lyman. If he will manage to pour our words into Lord Beric's ear, all will be good, the smallfolk will return to the Crownlands and we could possibly have a royal wedding in the future."

The plan was good and the people in the Small Council agreed, except for Lord Estermont who really doesn't agree of any idea of Bloodraven, even though it is a good one.

After the meeting, Brynden proceeded to write the two letters and Grand Maester Wylard sent them by raven to the North. He then went towards Shiera's room, who left the Council room early only to find her in bed with Ser Walton Tully, one of the Kingsguard.

"Ahem…"

Ser Walton had short, auburn hair and blue eyes, due to his Tully blood and was one of the finest swordsmen in the realm. Bloodraven was not surprised to see him bedding Shiera, as she fucked almost every lord, knight, blacksmith and stable boy in King's Landing.

"My lord, I…"

"Leave us. If Lord Commander Yronwood asks about where you have been, you were with me in the city."

"Thank you, my lord."

Ser Walton put on his clothes and left the room quickly, fearing that the Bloodraven will change his mind. Brynden however had other things on his mind.

"Is there any Kingsguard member you did not fuck?"

"That boy who died in the rebellion, what was his name? Calyn? Calen?"

"Caylen Westerling."

"Right. I never fucked him, he died before I could get a chance."

Bloodraven's jealousy was boiling inside of him, but he decided to cool down, as anger will only darken his judgement.

"While you were here making love to Walton Tully, I managed to sell the plan to the Small Council. Estermont was loud mouthed as ever but he was outvoted. Also, I contacted my uncle, the maester of Lord Stark. He will convince his master to accept the deal."

"That's good. But Estermont will not back down, he will do anything within his power to thwart us. He has a plan, and other conspirators beside him will help him accomplish it."

"A plan? How do you know?"

"I found out days ago from my spies that Lord Dormund is meeting with certain lords in secret. He plans to have you poisoned and, after your death, to make sure Maekar becomes Hand of the King. Also, he is feeding information to our nephew. He personally sent a raven after the last Council meeting but that bird was shot down before even leaving the Crownlands. Ser Tully was the one who killed the raven, because he is my creature. What have you just seen is his reward for a job well done."

"Well, well… I never thought Estermont will have it in him. Certainly, his craven fart façade is just a ruse. Do you know who his co-conspirators are?"

"Yes, I made you a list. Is in my drawer over there."

"Thank you, Shiera!"

Bloodraven kissed his sister on the lips and cuddled her naked body with his hand. She responded to his touches by caressing his marked cheek.

"Right now, we must make sure to get rid of Estermont and his cronies. But it must not be traced back to us."

"Absolutely. I also found out that a Kingsguard, Ser Harald Grandison, will be the one who is supposed to poison you, at dinner."

"Stormlands fucks… Let me think about it for a minute… I know!"

Without saying another word, Lord Rivers left his lover's room, planning to quash this soon-to-be rebellion before it even began.


	4. The Dinner

The dinner table was full with all kinds of delicious foods from all across the world. The most interesting ingredient was a large bird, unlike any other seen in the Seven Kingdoms, stuffed with vegetables and a bittersweet sauce. It was a Tyroshi peacock, a large, edible bird who lived only in that part of Essos and was considered a delicacy. Now that the trade between the Seven Kingdoms and Essos flowed again, exotic new items were brought in everyday from the Free Cities. King Aerys was very happy seeing so many great and new things before his eyes.

"We have good food on our table again, and also good wine in our cups. All thanks to our Small Council, who managed to negotiate new trade treaties with the Free Cities. Let's raise a cup to our Hand, our Master of Coin and, of course, our Master of Trade who returned just today from Essos. Long live Lord Errol Grafton!"

Errol Grafton, a man in his 40s, with long, black hair and a pointy nose, was the younger brother of Lord Adrien Grafton of Gulltown. While his elder brother was trained to rule, Errol was trained to learn the secrets of trade. As Gulltown was the largest port of the Vale, he spent his time with merchants, sailors and fishermen, thus making him a shrewd and calculated individual.

"Thank you, your Grace! It is an honor. Also, I brought those books from across the narrow sea. _The history of the Free Cities_ by Tyren Vozuk, the greatest historian of Braavos, _I saw the shores of Sothoryos_ by Ruben Sapatino, a former Triarch of Volantis and of course, _Reminiscences from my travels_ , written by Egbert Arryn, the Exiled Falcon. It is one of only three copies that exist in the world. One is in Myr, where the Falcon lived for a few years, one at the Eyrie and one is right in your library. I took the liberty of bringing it to your chambers!"

"Incredible. Thank you, my lord!"

Lord Manderly mumbled something that Brynden perceived as "Not more books!" but the Bloodraven was intrigued. He was also an avid reader and he will want to borrow them too.

"Well, all these good news deserve a celebration! Finally, all is good in the realm!"

That couldn't be farther from the truth and Bloodraven knew it more than anyone else. The king was deluded, living inside his bubble, while the smallfolk were in rebellion and the trust in the Iron Throne was at its lowest since the rule of Brynden's father, Aegon the Unworthy. The Hand of the King wouldn't want to ruin the dinner, however, and sat silently while the king continued to talk with Lord Grafton.

Lord Estermont raised his cup:

"A toast to the king and to peace in the realm!"

Everyone raised the cup, including Bloodraven and Shiera. After everybody at the table drank their wine, Ser Grandison approached Aegon IV's bastard son with a bottle and poured wine again into the Hand's cup.

"Thank you, Ser Harald! A fine Arbor vintage! I can smell the sweetness!"

"It's a gift, actually, Lord Hand!"

"And who is this generous man?"

Estermont smiled towards Brynden:

"It's a bottle from my special reserve. I enjoy collecting wine from every part of the world. Once, I had this Lyseni wine, the sweetest thing I've ever tasted! Enjoy the wine, Lord Hand. If you like it, I will provide you as much as you want. Perhaps to enjoy it with Lady Shiera? There is a saying in the Stormlands: _Wine drank alone is wine wasted_!"

Brynden raised his cup:

"Aren't you the poet, Lord Dormund? I wholeheartedly thank you for your gift. And to show my gratitude and how much I cherish your presence, I also have a surprise for you! Rogg, bring in the surprise for Lord Estermont!"

Rogg, one of the Raven's Teeth, the personal army of Bloodraven, opened the door of the dining hall and left the room. After a couple of minutes, he returned in the hall with a young boy, no more than ten, with brown hair, dressed with a green doublet and a turtle brooch on his chest.

Lord Dormund Estermont froze

"Edric? What is the meaning of this, Lord Hand?"

"Well, I noticed that in the last couple of days, you started to become quite lonely, my lord. I saw you talk with all kinds of people, out of loneliness. So, knowing how horrendous can the capital be for a lonely man, I brought your grandson, the honorable little Lord Edric, the son of the late Ser Gorven. So, I sent my host to bring him to you, from Greenstone directly to King's Landing!"

Everyone in the hall, including the King, cheered and applauded. Dormund Estermont was shocked but soon, he understood what Brynden did. He quickly realized that Bloodraven must have found out about the plot and brought the child here, to use him as leverage. An effective trick, as Edric was his only remaining kin, after his son Bryon died in the cradle and his second child, Gorven, died at sea. Dormund was old now and his House was on the brink of extinction. His grandson, and the future of House Estermont, was now in danger.

"I thank you; it was an extremely pleasant surprise. I haven't seen Edric since I visited Estermont last year. I missed him. Thank you, Lord Hand."

"With pleasure! Now you have a reason to be happy! Here, let's drink together from the wine you brought me!"

"No, thank you, I am too overwhelmed with emotion right now!"

Dormund then hugged the child and, after excusing himself, left the dining hall with him. Shiera Seastar looked at her brother, smiling.

After the dinner, Brynden and Shiera went together to the Tower of the Hand and, after having sex, started to plan their next move.

"Now, Estermont wouldn't dare to do anything to us, while that grandson of his is in King's Landing. He cares about him a lot!"

"Not necessarily, Shiera… I think he cares more about his House than the boy. I remember one Small Council meeting when he said that he couldn't wait for the boy to grow up to the point of being able to procreate, to find him a bride and have him breed."

"Either way, now our path is clear! Here, take this letter. I waited until after dinner to give this to you."

The envelope bore the seal of House Stark, the direwolf. Brynden opened it and started to read. After a few minutes, he hugged Shiera and said to her, in a soft voice:

"My love, he accepted. Lord Stark will send us the smallfolk and his daughter!"


	5. The Arrival of Wolves

The entire court awaited the Stark ship that was bringing Lord Beric's daughter, Wylla, to King's Landing. At the docks, the King stood on a beautifully crafted throne bearing the sigil of House Targaryen, the red three headed dragon on black. His wife, Queen Aelinor, stood beside him, dressed in a superb brown gown and a dragon brooch on her chest. Her brown was long and wavy and her eyes were brown too, beautiful but sad. The rest of the Small Council and a part of the Lords from the court stood on confortable benches behind the royal couple, everyone except Brynden Rivers, who walked impatiently on the boardwalk. The Hand of the King was dressed in his hooded black cloak, with an albino dragon sewed on its back. The sun upsets him, so whenever he leaves the Red Keep, he will put on this outfit, making people fear him even more. He started to talk with a young man with dark skin, dressed in a long, multicolored robe.

"You are from the Summer Isles, right?"

"Yes, Lord Hand. I am Xhon Thelor, thirdborn son of Jazam, prince of Omburu."

"And why did a prince of Omburu leave the Summer Isles to come to a bleak place like Westeros?"

"Well, it's a long story."

"I love stories, especially now that I have to wait for that ship from the North to arrive. Tell me, prince Xhon, I'm waiting!"

"Three years ago, a strange fever took my youngest brother, Chedu. No healer from the Summer Isles could do anything for him. When their rituals failed, father sent his ships to bring in specialists from across the seas, such as Norvoshi healer priests, Lhazareen maegis, Westerosi maesters and even spirit healers from Yi Ti. Only a maester, Graydon, managed to save my brother, stopping his fever with a queer mixture of plants. My father was so grateful that he wanted to give maester Graydon a ship full of gemstones but he refused, saying that the good health of Chedu was enough. Before Graydon left for the Seven Kingdoms, I asked him where he learned to heal and he answered me: _at the Citadel, in Oldtown_. Since then, my dream was to go to the Citadel in Oldtown, to learn how to heal."

Brynden Rivers gave the prince a faint smile:

"Not all maesters are as kindhearted as Graydon. Do you know his story?"

"No. Our time together was short. Tell me, Lord Hand."

"Well, I suppose I must, since you were so kind as to tell me your story. Maester Graydon was born Graydon Hill, a bastard of Lord Loras Lefford of Golden Tooth. Lord Loras was a pious man, but he fell in love with the daughter of his blacksmith, a beautiful maid of seventeen. He seduced her, bedded her and after his natural son was born, Lord Loras was consumed by guilt, as bastardy is frowned upon here in Westeros. I know this very well, as I am a bastard too. Loras had no choice but to acknowledge his son and, when the boy grew up, he sent him to the Citadel. A good fate for a bastard. Graydon was very intelligent and had a knack for healing. After finishing his studies, maester Graydon was assigned to House Lannister of Lannisport. He still lives there but receives many requests from all the corners of the world."

"He is a good man, and I want to see him again. In the Summer Isles, we don't care if a child is a bastard or not. The goddess professes love and love can't be a sin. I really want to become a maester, to better help my people."

Brynden was impressed with the young Summer Islander. He was young and had that innocence about him and a desire to do well by people. The Bloodraven hoped that prince Xhon will not be perverted by the Westerosi society. After a few more minutes of talking, the prince excused himself and left Brynden, not before giving him a beautifully crafted ruby ring. Prince Xhon said that whenever a Summer Islander has a productive discussion with someone, he will give his fellow interlocutor a gift. Brynden accepted it.

At the superior level of the harbor, the court was impatient. The hot weather was very difficult to bear, especially to the older lords. The queen turned to her husband, caressing his cheek:

"It's so hot today, my love. I pray to the Seven for rain!"

"You should pray to the wind to bring the clouds on the mainland, my queen. Tonight, I will give you my book about rain, it's quite interesting. You should read it!"

Lady Shiera, watching the queen's answer to her husband's proposition, a sad smile, thought:

 _You fool, she needs cock, not books. Cock!_

The Mistress of Whisperers left her place behind the king and went straight to her lover Brynden.

"Our nephew proposed to Aelinor to give her books about rain. Really, I want so much for that Martell side of him to emerge and just fuck the tits off the queen."

Aerys' mother was a Martell, so the propensity for carnality was in his blood. The reasons why it hasn't any effect on the king remains unknown.

"Maybe with this Stark girl… Look, direwolf sails. They will arrive shortly!"

In a few minutes, the ship docked in King's Landing. The royal couple graciously descended the stairs of the harbor accompanied by the court. Lady Wylla's personal guard emerged from the ship, making way for the beautiful daughter of Lord Beric Stark. Everyone gasped when they saw her. Lady Wylla was fair skinned, with black hair and a tiny, oval face with full lips and black eyes that could seduce any man any time. She wore a long, grey dress with a direwolf model, to show her Stark blood. Since the moment they saw her, Brynden Rivers and Shiera knew that she could be the one.

A few days later, Brynden and the king discussed about the problems of the realm.

"Well, the smallfolk returned to their lands and except for a few squabbles with the patrols, everything seems fine. Of course, we discussed in the Small Council several ways of helping the agriculture if the rains won't begin quickly. We considered hiring builders from Braavos to create canals to water the fields. The source will be, of course, the Blackwater. We have a few blueprints, given to us by the man the Braavosi sent to see if it could be done. It can be done."

"A good idea but I'm not sure it would be feasible. The costs will surely be immense and the work would not bear fruits until very late, when the drought, if it continues, will claim many victims."

"We will not start big. According to the plans the Braavosi sent us, the first canal will be ready in three months. As for the costs, Lord Brax assured me that the Crown could afford one half of the money. The other half will be given by the Lords from the Crownlands, as they have the most to gain from this enterprising."

"I don't know if we have another three months, Uncle."

"Well, we certainly don't have another idea."

"You can try to use spells to bring the rains, Uncle. Aren't the smallfolk considering you a warlock of sorts?"

"I'm not joking, Your Grace. The smallfolk do what they do best: trying to explain the world with superstition and religion."

"Exactly, Uncle, but I would be careful with these words around the High Septon."

Brynden Rivers frowned:

"Your Grace, it is because of religion that we are in the situation we are. Just like I told my brother: You cannot hope to bring progress and modernity to a society who still believes in tree gods and seven-faced gods and drowned gods. Westeros will progress the day people will realize that life is shit and the only way to turn the shit into something good is to acknowledge the fact that only by work and intelligence we will prevail. As for the High Septon, he likes to wake up in the morning, spew that nonsense in the Sept of Baelor and then, at night, fuck young girls. And when I say young, I'm talking about pre-flowering young."

"Well, hypocrites will always exist in the world, no matter the age. But at least the Faith keeps people under control."

"Keeps them foolish, more likely. It is a mummer's farce. The Faith claims that the truth is theirs just because the Andal invaders of old believe into the Seven and brought their customs across the sea. In the North, the First Men's descendants tell us that the only gods who tell the truth are the tree gods. Across the sea, the Red Priests tell us that R'hllor is the one true god. In Braavos, there is one temple for each religion. That makes dozens of temples for dozens of faiths. Each claiming the truth."

"It may be true, Uncle, but you cannot deny that faith has its role in the society. Without faith, people will start asking questions and the answers they are may not satisfy them."

"Tell me, Your Grace, what would happen when from the plethora of septons and septas one will rise above all the others and convince the sheep to follow him? Telling them that while individually they amass to nothing but together they could take down empires? What would happen to us?"

"Let's hope that time doesn't come."

"Hope is like building with sand. When you think your castle will stand there forever, the water will come and wash it away. Difficult times are ahead of us. We need stability!"

King Aerys' face darkened. He knew that his uncle was right. Brynden was always right. Sometimes, Aerys believed him to be some kind of a prophet. Whatever the truth may be, Brynden certainly wasn't an ordinary man.

"Tell me, Your Grace, how is Queen Aelinor? Does she enjoy the presence of Lady Stark?"

"Absolutely. She is very interested in stories about the North and they talk countless hours about it."

"I am glad. I was afraid that Lady Stark will be cold and bland, like the region she hails from."

"Calm down, Uncle. I find the lady to be very interesting."

Something just ignited in Brynden's heart. He knew it. Without his intervention, Aerys noticed the young direwolf pup. Could it be something else? Lust maybe?


End file.
